


Jedi In Winter

by bluedragoninamber



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton
Genre: About a year after Melida/Daan, Angst and Fluff, Dessert & Sweets, Dysfunctional Relationships, Families of Choice, Father-Son Relationship, Friendship, Gen, Gifts, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Holiday Shopping, Holidays, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi Apprentice AU, Loneliness, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Mostly Canon Compliant until after The Day of Reckoning-Jedi Apprentice novel, Parent-Child Relationship, Protective Yoda, Secrets, The Force, Wishes, Yoda is Dooku's master, Yoda is not Mace's master, created winter festival, holiday markets, lots of feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 11:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8326972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedragoninamber/pseuds/bluedragoninamber
Summary: “I have told you many times before about the dangers of attachments.  I have warned you that all those you become attached to will betray you.”  He took a steadying breath.  “But as it happens, Qui-Gon, I am finding that such a life as I have counseled you to live is a very lonely life indeed.”In which Yan Dooku understands regret and tries to make things right.  Something new will be born from the ashes of the old but exactly what remains to be seen.





	1. Broken Things

** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

** AN ** **: This story is the result of me taking one of my favorite SW tropes (Qui-Gon being too hard and even cruel to Obi-Wan due to Xanatos’ betrayal) and twisting it around a bit. It is set during the Jedi Apprentice series and begins a little more than a year after Obi-Wan’s actions on Melida/Daan. It goes AU after that. There may be romantic relationships in this story, but I haven’t decided yet. Currently, the rating is mature for content only. You will probably find my Dooku to be OOC. Also, I have borrowed from fandom in the idea of the “Wintertide” festival. Other authors have created a winter holiday to function something like Christmas in the Star Wars universe, and I have followed their lead.**

            “I had hoped that you might be a bit more favorably disposed toward me by now, Padawan.” Dooku eyed the younger man with an air of resignation.

            Qui-Gon shook his head. “You will forgive me, Master, if I am not exactly jubilant to see you. I have no time to listen to you lecture me on all my failures.”

            Dooku sighed. “Surely you realize that I am not here for that reason. This is Wintertide, Qui-Gon. For once, I am at the Temple for the holiday, and I hoped to spend some time with you and my grandpadawan. I will be leaving immediately afterward for Serenno, since I have been assigned to a mission there.”

            Qui-Gon did not look at him. “Then I will wish you well, and may the Force be with you. I have a meeting with Mace to get to. My padawan is in his room where he will remain for all but essential tasks.”

            Dooku looked at him curiously. “You have him on restriction? Whatever could he have done that was so bad as to warrant him being on restriction during Wintertide? Hasn’t his probation from the Council ended?”

            Qui-Gon’s jaw tightened. “His probation from the Council has ended. However, his probation from me has not.”

            Dooku’s eyes narrowed. “Qui-Gon, he was on probation for a year. Don’t you think that he has been punished enough? Considering the missions that he’s been on with you since then, don’t you think that he has sufficiently proven his commitment to the Order?”

            The younger Jedi went very still. It was a defensive pose that Dooku remembered far too well from Qui-Gon’s apprenticeship.

            “He has yet to learn his lesson. He betrayed me, just as you warned me about. I have not been strict enough with him. I will not allow him to become Xanatos,” Qui-Gon said, and Dooku did not miss the echo of pain in that last statement.

            “Really, Qui-Gon, is it still Xanatos? He has met his fate in the Force. Is it not time you let go of him instead of letting him haunt you from beyond the grave?” Dooku asked.

            Qui-Gon turned on his heel to face his master. “Xanatos’ death was a wake-up call, a reminder to me not to become complacent or indulgent with Obi-Wan. I made that mistake once. I won’t make it again.”

            Dooku frowned. Qui-Gon was sure for a moment that there was sadness in his eyes, but he discarded the thought immediately.  

            The elder Jedi rubbed his forehead. “Padawan, it is far too late for me to say this to you, but perhaps you might still be willing to listen to me.” He met Qui-Gon’s gaze directly, and the younger man realized with a start that there was sadness in his eyes, sadness and regret, neither of which he’d ever associated with his master.

            “I was wrong in how I raised you. My own master, Yoda, was never as strict and unbending with me as I was with you. But I was so wrapped up in being the youngest master in the recent history of the Order that I discarded everything my master had taught me for the sake of proving myself….and you suffered for it.”

            Qui-Gon did his best to cover his shock. Was his master saying what he thought he was? He could not recall a single time as a padawan that Dooku had ever apologized or admitted to being wrong.

            And then his master did say exactly that. “I’m sorry, Qui-Gon. I should have been a very different master to you than I was. I suppose it’s too late for us. But it’s not too late for you and your padawan. So he made a choice that was not the best one. So be it. He has learned a very difficult lesson. I suspect that if you ease up on the boy and take your emotions out of it, you will find that he has learned his lesson particularly well.”

            Dooku dropped his gaze abruptly, and Qui-Gon was even more shocked to realize that his master was ashamed.

            “I have told you many times before about the dangers of attachments. I have warned you that all those you become attached to will betray you.” He took a steadying breath. “But as it happens, Qui-Gon, I am finding that such a life as I have counseled you to live is a very lonely life indeed.”

            For a moment, Dooku met his eyes again. Qui-Gon found himself speechless. His master’s eyes were always admirably blank. But now, the deep brown gaze showed a depth of pain that took his breath away. It was that pain that haunted Qui-Gon as his master turned and walked away.

            Dooku wandered the halls of the Temple, his chest tight with the misery that he could not express. The comfort of the Force was denied to him because no matter how much he tried, he could not release his emotions.

            “Perhaps, express them rather than release them, you should.”

            Dooku startled at the familiar voice. “Master, I did not expect to find you here. Do you need me?”

            Yoda’s awkward gait accompanied by the clicking of his ever-present stick approached him. Out of long habit, Dooku knelt to bring himself closer to eye level with his master. He did his best to school his expression back into serene Jedi blandness, but Yoda clearly saw right through it.

            His clawed hand gently squeezed Dooku’s. “Need me, Padawan, you do?”

            Dooku considered lying, but Yoda would know immediately. He wanted to reach for what remained of his pride and dignity, but Yoda’s clawed yet tender hand was warm in his own.

            And he was so lonely.

            “I do, Master,” Dooku finally admitted. “I do.”

            Yoda kept a reassuring hold on his hand as they walked back to Yoda’s quarters.


	2. A Candle in the Dark

** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

 ** AN ** **: In which Dooku talks, Yoda listens and comforts, and Dooku thaws some more. Definitely canon divergent/AU starting in this chapter. Dooku is Count of Serenno, and in this story, that has repercussions. Next chapter will probably be from both Qui-Gon’s and Obi-Wan’s POV. I’ll be changing/adding tags as the story develops.**

            Dooku did not speak as he allowed his old master to nudge him to the couch he’d occupied so often as a padawan. He wasn’t surprised when Yoda made tea, the blend the he had always made for Dooku when he was troubled. Silently, Yoda offered him a cup, and silently he accepted it. Dooku wrapped his hands around it and drank, wishing the hot liquid could reach the cold emptiness that had driven him to the Temple in the first place.

            Sipping his own tea, Yoda finally broke the silence. “Surprised, I was, when to return to the Temple for Wintertide, you asked. Accepted Outer Rim postings, you have, to avoid the Temple.”

            Dooku blinked. Then, he sighed. Apparently, even as a seasoned master, he still had no hope of fooling Yoda.

            “Am I that transparent, Master?” Dooku asked ruefully. A clawed hand rested on his arm as Yoda settled beside him.

            “Always transparent, a padawan is to their master,” Yoda said.

            Dooku set down his cup with a bit more force than necessary. “Except when you happen to be Qui-Gon Jinn.”

            Yoda’s ears drooped. “Troubled, he is. Troubled, his padawan is. Haunted, they are, by one lost.”

            The younger Jedi sighed. “I know. Xanatos was Qui-Gon’s entire world for so long. It was bad enough with his rejections of Obi-Wan in the first place. And then there was that situation with Melida/Daan. I am actually beginning to regret that I handled Qui-Gon’s own similar actions privately with you rather than making them a matter of Temple record. It might do Qui-Gon a great deal of good to remember that he once did nearly exactly what Obi-Wan did. The only difference was that I forcibly removed him from the planet and brought him privately to you.”

            Yoda eyed him knowingly. “Perhaps reminded, he needs to be.”

            Dooku shook his head. “He was scarcely willing to speak with me this time. And now that I know that he has the boy on restriction still, I can’t imagine that I could get him to bring the boy to me. It’s Obi-Wan who needs to hear what his master did as much as Qui-Gon needs it, to know that his master is not the perfect Jedi that Obi-Wan seems to think he is…a notion my padawan has not thought to counter.”

            Yoda sipped his tea, watching Dooku. “Authority over him, I have, which you do not. Order his attendance with his padawan, I could. Share his secret, I could.”

            Dooku set down his tea. “I don’t know, Master. I don’t want to alienate him even further than I already have.” In an uncharacteristic gesture, he buried his face in his hands, rubbing his weary eyes. “I’ve never been the friendliest person, and then I was so caught up with proving myself as a master that I alienated what few friends I did have…especially after Lorian…and Sifo.” A shadow passed across his brown eyes. “I have yet to figure out why you have not abandoned me. Force knows I deserve it.”

            Yoda’s ears drooped, and his small hands stroked Dooku’s arms. “My padawan, you are. Abandon you, I will not.” When Dooku did not meet his eyes, Yoda softly asked, “Prompted your return now, something has?”

            “Serenno,” Dooku muttered, so low that only Yoda’s acute hearing picked it up. “They have sent word to me that it is well past time for me to name heirs. After Wintertide, I am to present my heirs to be recognized.” He finally looked at Yoda. “I had hoped to name Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan as my heirs. But now…I think Qui-Gon would laugh in my face if I suggested it.”

            Yoda frowned, reaching up to gently run his fingers through Dooku’s long hair, lingering where the padawan braid had hung. His padawan was not an emotionally demonstrative man, but that did not mean that he did not feel. Though their training bond was long severed, Yoda could still feel how Dooku radiated a soul deep anguish.

            “Lonely, you are, padawan mine,” Yoda said.

            It was the “mine” that did it. Dooku pulled away, or tried to, but Yoda caught his hands in an iron grip, using a touch of the Force that his padawan did not resist. Dooku swallowed hard, fighting the urge to give in to the unspoken invitation in that familiar voice. The hands clasping his squeezed gently. At last, Dooku fell to his knees, burying his head in Yoda’s lap as his body shook with silent sobs, and tears streamed down his face. Yoda released his hands to pull him more or less into his embrace even as he ruffled Dooku’s hair.

            They stayed like that for a long time, so long that Dooku’s eyes drifted shut. When he opened them again, he found himself curled up, minus boots, robe, and utility belt, on his old padawan bed in Yoda’s quarters. Clearly, Yoda had used the Force to move and disrobe him. But Dooku wasn’t alone. In a green and brown ball at the foot of the bed was Yoda. Dooku had no doubt that his master had fallen asleep keeping watch over him as he’d done more than once when Dooku had been sick or injured as a padawan. He felt a rush of affection for the elder Jedi, Force-calling a blanket to cover his master before letting himself fall back to sleep, the echo of a smile on his lips.


	3. The Distance Between

** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

** AN ** **: This chapter is written from two different perspectives. The reference to the “allotment” in this chapter is fanon, as far as I know, the idea being that each month each Jedi gets a small amount of money to buy items not provided to them by the Temple.**

            Obi-Wan was not at all surprised to find himself restlessly tossing and turning in bed. Finally, he gave up on sleep and tried to meditate, but peace and serenity eluded him. He sighed. This had become a routine since Melida/Daan. If it wasn’t the nightmares of Cerasi’s death it was the sheer coldness and distance of his bond with his master. Obi-Wan thought it barely counted as a bond anymore, as he was able to sense nothing more through it than that his master was alive.

            His probation with the Jedi had ended, but it looked like he would be on restriction with Qui-Gon the rest of his apprenticeship. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his friends outside of classes. He hadn’t even been able to get them Wintertide gifts because Qui-Gon had refused to give him his Jedi allotment as part of his punishment. Qui-Gon no longer allowed him leisure time. Instead, Obi-Wan’s master planned his day as if he was a crecheling with assigned activities for each hour. Even on missions, he kept Obi-Wan under his thumb.

            Obi-Wan reflected bitterly that this was the cost of following the Force…of following his heart…of doing what he judged to be right. So he had been wrong…though he would never be able to regret loving Cereasi…but how was he ever supposed to be an independent Jedi if his master never forgave him? The Council had forgiven him. The Order had forgiven him. But Obi-Wan would never be free of Xanatos. Qui-Gon would always look at him and see the threat of darkness and the pain of betrayal. Before Melida/Daan, he had hoped that Qui-Gon might finally be opening up to him. He had even hoped that he might one day hear from his master the words that he was so desperate for. “I’m proud of you.”

            Obi-Wan rebuked himself sternly. It was time to abandon such childish thinking. He’d made his choice, and now he had to live with the consequences. He knew that Qui-Gon had not had a close relationship with Master Dooku either, so maybe it simply ran in their lineage. Whatever the case, this was his reality now, and that was all. But when he was alone, he admitted that he often found his mind wandering off into dreams of what might have been. If Cerasi had not died…if they had never been sent to Melida/Daan…if Qui-Gon had seen worth in him without the aid of a heroic act or even the arm-twisting of a small, green Jedi…Obi-Wan hid those dreams behind layers of shielding. Force only knew what his master would do if he ever saw them. He had no doubt that Qui-Gon could find another way to make his punishment worse.

            Was it any surprise, Obi-Wan thought, that the last time he could remember smiling was with Cerasi?

            Qui-Gon’s night was turning out no better than his padawan’s. His master’s words had left him unsettled. How could Dooku change after all these years? How could he, of all things, apologize to Qui-Gon? His master’s pain had been undeniable, and Qui-Gon found himself wishing to go find Dooku and make sure he was okay. The mere idea that he would willingly seek to spend time with his cold, unfeeling master shocked Qui-Gon. He’d always thought the man despised him. But there had been no disgust this time. There had been only grief and regret.

            And if his master was truly sorry and seeking to make amends, where did that leave Qui-Gon with his own padawan? He’d known he was being much harder on the boy than he should, but he’d justified it by reasoning that Xanatos had Fallen because Qui-Gon had been too indulgent with him. He was not going to make that mistake with Obi-Wan. He was going to do what Dooku had done with him, be so strict and unbending that the boy wouldn’t even think about stepping out of line again. To have Dooku suddenly show up in his life, offering words that Qui-Gon had longed to hear for so many years had left Qui-Gon reeling…and guilty. Qui-Gon knew he was nothing but a hypocrite in condemning Obi-Wan for his actions. He knew because he’d done exactly the same thing himself. The only difference was that Dooku had refused to abandon him. Instead, Dooku had used a Force compulsion and removed Qui-Gon from the planet, bringing him back to the Temple where he and Master Yoda had dealt privately with his punishment. He’d been forgiven.

            Qui-Gon frowned. He glanced over at the closed door to his padawan’s room. Maybe it was time that he and Obi-Wan had a talk, a real talk, rather than a lecture. He saw again the anguish in Dooku’s eyes and was surprised to feel the lump in his throat. Perhaps the Force was trying to tell him something. Maybe it was time to talk to his master too. Qui-Gon watched the sunrise. A message on his comm made him smile slightly in spite of himself. It was from Master Yoda, ordering Qui-Gon to come to his quarters after breakfast. He was explicitly ordered to bring Obi-Wan with him.

            “Matters to discuss with you and your padawan, your master and I have,” the message said.

            Qui-Gon sighed. It looked like the little green troll was going to interfere in his life again. But if Yoda could help his line make sense out of the mess they had made…Qui-Gon decided he really didn’t mind all that much.

            After all, he was lonely too.


	4. Breathing Hope

** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

**AN** **: This story has been stuck for a while, but I’ve got it moving again. More non-canon stuff added here regarding Qui-Gon and Dooku’s backstory as well as regarding Obi-Wan’s status as a minor under Jedi and Coruscant law. Also, there was no Feemor. Xanatos was Qui-Gon’s first padawan. I’ve established that Qui-Gon is considered a master because he did train a padawan. I have also (finally) established that The Day of Reckoning in the Jedi Apprentice series is canon in this AU, so Xanatos is dead. This story follows after his death, and, as I said earlier, a little more than a year after Melidaa/Dan. There is a lot more of this story to come so stay tuned! ** 

            Dooku sat beside Yoda, watching as Qui-Gon entered with Obi-Wan trailing the prescribed distance behind him. He knew immediately that Qui-Gon had not slept at all the previous night, and one look at Obi-Wan suggested that the boy’s sleep had been equally disturbed. The weariness emanating from them was nearly palpable, and Dooku knew that he and Yoda did not look any better. Dooku’s eyes were bloodshot from crying. Yoda’s wrinkled face was tense, and his eyes were shadowed with worry.

            “Sit, you will,” Yoda said softly, but his voice made the order clear. Dooku barely managed to keep from sighing when he realized that Obi-Wan did not sit until after his master did and then stared fixedly at his hands. Yoda caught Dooku’s eyes and nodded. He had noticed too.

            “Come to our attention, it has, that ended, Padawan Kenobi’s probation has. Yet, under restriction, Master Jinn, placed him, you have.” Yoda frowned at Qui-Gon. “Explain yourself, you will.”

            Qui-Gon tensed defensively. “I did not feel that a year of probation was sufficient for Obi-Wan to atone for the grievous wrong he committed against our Code and our Order.” Dooku and Yoda both watched as Obi-Wan slumped in shame.

            Yoda’s ears lowered in displeasure. “Take vengeance, he did not. Fall to the Dark Side, he did not. Misguided, he was. Disobedient to you, he was.” Yoda paused, and Qui-Gon had to resist the urge to squirm under the hard gaze of his grandmaster. “But neither a traitor nor a criminal, he was. More than sufficient, his punishment has been. Lift his restriction immediately, you will.”

            Qui-Gon tensed further. “No! I will not. He must learn to obey me in all things. He must learn not to question me.” He turned to Dooku. “I have taken him in hand just as you took me in hand. I will not have another failure, and you will be pleased how he turns out.”

            Dooku did sigh then, shaking his head. “Qui-Gon, how many times must you be told before you believe it? Xanatos was not your fault! He chose to Fall.”

            Qui-Gon scowled. “If I had not coddled and indulged him, he would not have Fallen!”

            “A choice, Falling is,” Yoda said. “Punish the second padawan for the actions of the first, you must not.”

            Qui-Gon snapped at him. “Obi-Wan is headstrong and willful! Only through punishment will he learn to be a Jedi!”

            Dooku interrupted. “Qui-Gon is headstrong and willful! Only through punishment will he learn to be a Jedi!” He sighed. “Oh, Padawan, you learned my lessons too well. Obi-Wan is you all over again at his age! Right down to Melidaa/Dan.” Dooku frowned. “You should tell your padawan of your own experience when you were his age. You make yourself a hypocrite by making him think that you yourself have never transgressed against the Code.”

            Qui-Gon stiffened. “That is none of Obi-Wan’s concern.”

            Dooku exchanged a glance with Yoda who nodded. “On the contrary, it most definitely is. Will you tell him, or shall I?” Dooku asked.

            Qui-Gon grimaced. “Master, please don’t.”

            Dooku sighed and turned to Obi-Wan. “When your master was fourteen, he and I were sent to a planet called Koreema. Much like the situation on Melidaa/Dan, the planet was in the middle of a civil war. We were not supposed to get involved, but your master became friends with the teenage children of one faction. There was a boy. Qui-Gon became attached to him. The Order called us away, but your master wanted to stay and fight with his friend. He denounced the Order there on that planet. I used a compulsion on Qui-Gon and took him away. I brought him to Master Yoda who oversaw his year of probation privately. No one else knew. I never made it a matter of Temple record.” He frowned. “Now, I wish I had so that you would have known that your master did something so much like what you did.”

            Qui-Gon looked angry and embarrassed but remained silent. They all watched Obi-Wan who finally looked up at Dooku.

            “Master, it was not exactly the same,” the boy said.

            Dooku asked, “What do you mean?”

            When Obi-Wan sighed, it was a sound far too old for the boy he was. “Master Dooku, when my master did that, you did not leave him behind on the planet.” Obi-Wan’s voice was quiet. “My master did. He had no intention of returning for me.”

            Qui-Gon sputtered indignantly for a moment. “It wasn’t like that! It isn’t as if I abandoned you!”

            A gust of frigid wind blew through Yoda’s quarters, an impossibility considering that no windows or doors were open. Yoda and Dooku glared at Qui-Gon as the icy finger of the Force scraped over all of them, making it quite clear just how the Force felt about Qui-Gon’s lie.

            Yoda’s ears flattened. “Abandoned him, you did. Judged you, the Force has. Authority to abandon the Order, your padawan does not have. Underage, he is. Your ward, he is. If made known to the Republic’s Child Protective Services, charged with neglect and endangerment, you would be.” Yoda’s dark eyes shone with derision. “Convenient, is it not, that a Jedi, you are?”

            For once, Qui-Gon could find no reply.

            “Afraid, you are. Afraid of being abandoned, afraid of betrayal, you are. All your trust to Xanatos, you gave away. Took it all, he did. Threw it away, he did.” Yoda paused. “But take it back, you have not, though within your power to do that, it is.”

            For a moment, there was silence. Finally, Yoda said, “If allow your fear to lead you, you do, then to the Dark Side, you will Fall. Win, Xanatos will. Destroy you, he will because in his footsteps, follow, you will.”

            Qui-Gon glanced away, hanging his head. “I loved Xanatos so much! He was the son I knew I would never have.”

            “As you were to me,” Dooku interrupted, a rough edge in his voice that Qui-Gon had never heard before. “As you are to me,” the elder master said. “I know I never showed it, and for that, I am sorry.” Suddenly, he reached out, gently taking Qui-Gon’s face in his hands and making the younger man meet his eyes. “But for Force’s sake, don’t punish the child for my mistakes!”

            Qui-Gon swallowed hard, slowly reaching up and covering his master’s hands with his own.

            “Our mistakes, Master. Yes, your mistakes…but mine too. So many of mine.” Qui-Gon pulled Dooku’s hands from his face only to clasp them tightly in his own, too hungry for the approval conveyed in his master’s affectionate gesture to be willing to let them go quickly. But he did let them go at last, not without a gentle squeeze that brought light and the shadow of a smile to Dooku’s weary face.

            All three men turned to Obi-Wan. The boy was staring fixedly at his hands, clearly trying to give his master privacy. Qui-Gon was struck by how small the boy still was. He had expected that Obi-Wan would have had a growth spurt by now, but the boy was still small enough that Qui-Gon could carry him as he had on occasion during happier times between them. Without another thought, Qui-Gon reached down and picked him up, startling his padawan whose blue-grey eyes widened almost comically round.

            “Master?” Obi-Wan whispered, his bewilderment clear. But Qui-Gon could also feel, as he let the shields on their training bond fall one by one, blossoming hope. With his free hand, he reached up and tugged gently on his padawan’s braid. He knew he owed the boy at least one bead because he was now at the top of his class in academics. He owed Obi-Wan a lot more than just a bead.

            “I’m sorry, Padawan. I want the chance to fix this.” Qui-Gon paused, and the hesitation in his voice told Obi-Wan everything he needed to know about his master’s sincerity. “Will you let me try?”

            Obi-Wan smiled tremulously. “Yes, I think I will.”

            “And what about me, Padawan?” Dooku said softly to Qui-Gon. “Will you let me try as well?”

            Qui-Gon took a steadying breath, let his hand slip away from Obi-Wan’s braid, and reached out to clasp his master’s hand. Dooku’s hand twined with his and held it, firm and warm.

            “Yes, Master. I think perhaps we can all do more than just try,” Qui-Gon said. He did not smile, but his blue eyes shaded with that same hope that touched Obi-Wan and Dooku.

            A gimer stick hitting the floor startled them all. Yoda stood there grinning.

            “Do or do not! There is no try. And do, we will…all of us together.”


	5. Choices

** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

 ** AN ** **: I’ve fussed a bit with canon Bant, Garen, Reeft, and Tahl. Also, Wintertide is like Christmas in that it has a tradition of giving gifts (but NO Santa Claus). Coruscant’s Wintertide market is modeled after Christmas markets all over the world. By the way, clearly, this story is going to get updated when it gets updated. Oh well, enjoy.**

            Yoda ordered them all lunch, including two platters of the chocolate mint cookies that he knew the four of them loved. After the meal was done, Dooku eagerly reached for the cookies which he had not had in years, having spent so much time on the Outer Rim. But neither Qui-Gon nor Obi-Wan followed his lead.

            Dooku looked at his padawan in confusion. “You used to love these cookies. Don’t you like them anymore?”

            Qui-Gon sighed. “They were Xanatos’s favorite. I haven’t eaten them since.”

            Dooku rubbed his forehead. “Padawan, I don’t mean to be insulting, but this is absurd. He’s even dictating what you eat from beyond the grave?”

            Qui-Gon looked sheepishly at his master. “When you put it that way, it does sound absurd.”

            Dooku frowned. “Well, it’s nothing that we can’t fix right now.” He picked up a cookie and eyed Qui-Gon. “Come now, Padawan. Open up.”

            Qui-Gon blinked in confusion. “What”…he began. But he never finished his question because, once he opened his mouth, Dooku popped the cookie into it. Startled, the younger man had no choice but to chew even as Obi-Wan tried to stifle his laughter and Yoda didn’t even try.

            Once he’d swallowed the cookie, Qui-Gon glared at this master. “Yes, they are good. But did you have to do it that way? I’m not a boy anymore!”

            Dooku laughed, and Obi-Wan finally started to giggle.

            “Padawan, you may be taller than me and a master in your own right, but I will always see in you the boy that you once were.” Dooku smiled. “It is the privilege of masters.”

            “True, this is. Even when much, much smaller than their apprentices, they are.” Yoda smiled, picking up another cookie and glancing at his own padawan.

            For a moment, Dooku actually blushed. “Oh, very well, Master, if you must,” he said and obligingly opened his mouth. Yoda laughed as he popped a cookie into Dooku’s mouth even as Qui-Gon roared with laughter.

            Obi-Wan sat, smiling but quiet, beside his master.

            Qui-Gon looked at him, puzzled. “Your crechemaster said that you loved these cookies.”

            The boy shrugged self-consciously. “You made it clear that they reminded you of Xanatos, and the last thing that I wanted to do was remind you of him.”

            Qui-Gon’s expression crumbled. “Oh, little one. I’ve let him dominate both our lives, haven’t I?”

            Obi-Wan didn’t answer. But a cookie suddenly appearing in front of him, held by his master, got his startled attention.

            “Dessert time, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said.

            Obi-Wan’s eyes shimmered for an instant with what might have been tears just before he let his master pop the cookie into his mouth.

            Yoda smiled at them all. “Good it is, yes?” he asked.

            Obi-Wan nodded and finished his cookie. Then he grabbed another one and offered it to Yoda.

            “You like them too, right Grandmaster?” Obi-Wan asked, grinning.

            Yoda grinned back and opened his mouth, letting Obi-Wan give him the cookie.

            “Tasty, they are,” Yoda agreed.

            Over the next few minutes, the four of them devoured the remaining cookies. Finally, Yoda roused his line.

            “Nearly Wintertide, it is,” Yoda said. “Your shopping, you have finished?”

            The three younger Jedi stared awkwardly at each other. “It hadn’t even crossed my mind,” Dooku admitted. Qui-Gon nodded and watched Obi-Wan stare down at his hands.

            Yoda shooed them off. “Away with you then! To Coruscant’s Wintertide market, you will go. Nothing needing your attention at the Temple right now, there is.” He smiled at them. “My own business, I must tend to. See you for dinner here, I will.”

            And with that, Yoda bustled them out the door.

            They spent a moment simply standing there. Sometimes, Yoda could be a bit overwhelming. Finally, Dooku looked at his padawan and grandpadawan.

            “I suppose Yoda has the right idea. Shall we go?” he asked.

            Qui-Gon looked down at Obi-Wan and handed him a credit stick. The boy smiled.

            Qui-Gon shrugged, chagrined. “I should not have kept your allotment from you in the first place.” He felt Obi-Wan’s forgiveness through their bond and smiled back.

            Coruscant’s Wintertide market was a riot of sights, sounds, and smells. The three of them separated, intending to meet up in two hours. Obi-Wan, now that he finally had credits, made straight for the food vendors. There were many who made sweets, the kind that his friend Reeft particularly loved, and he bought a box of Reeft’s favorite for his present. His friend Garen was next, and he had to go to the electronics vendors to find something for him, a stylus with a hook that would keep it attached to a datapad. Garen was always complaining about losing his stylus. Bant was the last of his friends that he shopped for. She loved to read, and he found a holo-book for her that detailed the legends and mythology of Coruscant. Like her master, Bant loved collecting stories, and she had often lamented that padawans were limited in what books they could borrow from the Temple Archives, at least until they came of age.

            After buying the book, Obi-Wan was making his way back into the center of the market when he saw a familiar silver-dusted black-haired head.

            “Master Dooku?” he called.

            The Jedi turned, his stern face softening. “Ah, Obi-Wan. Have you finished your shopping?”

            He hedged. “Well, not exactly. Have you?”

            Dooku smiled. “Well, not exactly.”

            Obi-Wan laughed at his mimicry. “I’ve got to get Master’s gift. I know one thing he wants. I can afford the thing he wants now at least.”

            The elder Jedi looked at him curiously. “What would that be?”

            Obi-Wan led the master over to a display of hair ornaments. “Hair ties, master. He’s using plain strips of leather now. They do the job, but I’ve heard Master muttering about how much he wishes he had ones with a little more color as well as ones suitable for when he wants to pull all his hair back, not just some of it.” He gestured to the assortment in front of him. “Do you think these would work?”

            Dooku scrutinized them then nodded. “I wear similar hair ties myself though the colors I wear will not suit him. I’d suggest blue and perhaps green.”

            The padawan smiled. “Blue for his eyes and green for the Living Force.”

            “Yes,” Dooku said, smiling. “But let’s not tell Qui-Gon. I can’t have him thinking that I’m getting sentimental.”

            Obi-Wan giggled, though as he paid for the ties, he wondered again what by all the stars he could possibly get for Master Dooku or for Master Yoda.

            In another part of the market, Qui-Gon was purposely avoiding the question of what to get for Dooku and Yoda in favor of slightly easier decisions. His first care was what to get for Mace. But Qui-Gon knew that the stoic, quiet Councilor had one particularly unique obsession…a series of superhero detective holo-novels featuring a man who spent his days masquerading as a humble government functionary and his nights solving baffling crimes, exposing corruption, and generally saving the galaxy from harm. Mace had been off-planet until the Wintertide holiday, so he had missed the most recent novel in the series. As it was, he was so buried in paperwork that he’d never remember to get it for himself. Qui-Gon was happy to get it for him and reminded himself not to tease Mace about his “trashy” novels.

            Tahl was another matter entirely. She and Mace had been his best friends since they’d been crechemates together, but, like Mace, Qui-Gon had neglected Tahl during his depression over Xanatos. As a Jedi lore-keeper, she loved to read, but Qui-Gon knew there was no book he could get for her that her position didn’t already give her access to. He finally settled on hair bands specially made for both displaying and restricting her long hair in the three braids that she preferred to wear. He found green and gold striped bands that would match her eyes and look lovely against her dark hair.

            Then there was Obi-Wan. He could hardly make up with a gift his neglect of his padawan, and Qui-Gon knew that he had to trust that his changed behavior would do what material things could not. But he could certainly get him the beads that he owed the boy.

            He stood before the bead vendors for a long time. The bead for Obi-Wan’s academic achievements was the easiest. He found a grey bead with veins of fiery orange. Grey was the color of the serious act of learning among the Jedi, and orange was the color of knowledge gained. And, he admitted, there also should have been a bead to mark the end of his padawan’s probation. Qui-Gon sighed. Better late than never, he thought as he selected a pure white bead. White was the color of beginnings, and this was certainly a new beginning for Obi-Wan…and for himself.

            Qui-Gon wavered over whether he should get one more bead. Though Jedi were not supposed to have attachments and were certainly not supposed to grieve those who had passed on, he was hardly a shining example of that Jedi precept. And the more he considered it, the more he thought that it would be proper to give his padawan some way to remember Cerasi, his lost friend and, if he’d been reading the boy correctly, his first love. Almost unconsciously, his fingers found their way to a bead that was marbleized pale green and copper. Qui-Gon had seen the brave girl who had captured his padawan’s heart. Really, she had been very much like Obi-Wan, headstrong and idealistic but also compassionate and tender. Her eyes had been pale green and her hair copper. And in the end, her legacy to her people was the peace that she had died for.

            Qui-Gon smiled softly as he handed the bead to the vendor. He had no doubt that Obi-Wan would find it particularly meaningful. There was no harm, after all, in treasuring memories. For a moment, he recalled the young man who, in such a similar situation to Obi-Wan, had captured his own young heart. No, there was no harm in treasuring memories at all.

            A few moments before he had to meet up with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, Dooku stared pensively out at the bustling market. He had not exactly been telling the others the truth regarding his Wintertide shopping. After the completion of his latest mission, he’d stopped on impulse on Serenno which had given the authorities a chance to corner him in person regarding his heirs. But while he was there, he’d had a new winter cloak made for himself…and then three more, one for Yoda, one for Qui-Gon, and one for Obi-Wan. It had been the mischief of a moment to hack into the Temple’s records to get their measurements, and he knew that the new cloaks would be appreciated. They weren’t flashy in the slightest, but they were much better made than the standard Temple-issue cloaks and of much higher quality material.

            But the real gift would be offering Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan the chance to become his heirs. Yoda would figure into that as well since, once Dooku formally recognized Yoda as his father, it would entitle the elder Jedi to Court standing as well. What worried Dooku was that the three men might not be willing to accept his offer. Truly, the fault for starting this whole mess had begun with him and the choices he had made. If that was to be his punishment, he would not be able to fault them for it.

            Dooku sighed. He could only trust the Force and hope with all that was within him that those he loved would make better choices than he had.


	6. Plans and Wishes

** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

** AN ** **: This chapter is shorter than the last one, but I decided that I’d brought it to a good ending. For reference, Wintertide Eve is the day before Wintertide, and presents are typically exchanged on Wintertide. I completely made up the Jedi legend referenced here. The death of Jocasta Nu and the reason why Dooku left for the Outer Rim is another thing that I added. The next chapter is going to be full of surprises so stay tuned.**

            They returned to the Temple together but parted to drop off their packages, Dooku going one way, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan going another. It wasn’t until the door to their quarters closed behind them that Obi-Wan brought up something that was bothering him.

            “Master, do you have any idea what to get Master Dooku or Master Yoda for Wintertide? I couldn’t find a thing at the market that was remotely suitable.” Obi-Wan said.

            Qui-Gon sighed. “Neither could I.” His expression grew thoughtful. “Perhaps something other than a thing would be best.”

            “What do you mean, Master?” the boy asked.

            Qui-Gon smiled. “Well, I’m still stumped on Yoda, but I know a possibility for Dooku.” He eyed his padawan. “Do you remember that tall man with brown hair dusted with silver who has taught your classes on occasion?”

            Obi-Wan thought a moment. “Do you mean Master Sifo-Dyas? Yes, I remember him. He has visions like I do. And didn’t you tell me that he’s been confined to the Temple ever since he permanently injured his ankle?”

            Qui-Gon nodded. “Yes, that’s him. As it happened, he and my master used to be the best of friends. Unfortunately, there was a tragedy on a mission. Another master and their mutual friend, Jocasta Nu, was killed. Dooku blamed Sifo, and the two of them had a rather public confrontation which included a saber fight. I didn’t see it, but I heard about it. My master left for the Outer Rim the next day, I assume over his anger at Sifo.”

            Obi-Wan frowned. “But how does that help us?”

            Qui-Gon sighed. “My master is lonely…desperately lonely. That much is clear. Surely, after this many years, Sifo will be willing to give Dooku another chance.”

            “You want to try and get the two of them to reconcile?” he asked.

            Qui-Gon placed a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “That is what I’m hoping for. All we can do is try.”

            “Do or do not, there is no try,” his padawan quoted. The elder Jedi smiled wanly.

            “That doesn’t always work with relationships, no matter what Yoda says. But perhaps, the Force will smile on us, and it will work this time.”

            “But how are you going to get them together? I doubt that Master Dooku or Master Sifo are going to be willing to see each other simply because we ask them to.” Obi-Wan looked earnestly into his master’s eyes, and then his own eyes narrowed with what he saw there.

            “Master, you’re planning something, aren’t you?” Obi-Wan chuckled at his master’s poor attempt at an innocent look.

            “Who, me, Padawan? Whatever makes you think that I am planning something?” Qui-Gon asked lightly. Then it was his turn to laugh as Obi-Wan simply folded his arms across his chest and waited, his hands tucked in the sleeves of his robe.

            Qui-Gon grinned. That was his pose, perfectly copied in his padawan. “Alright, I give up. Yes, I’m planning something, but I’m going to need your help to pull it off.”

            Obi-Wan sighed and smiled. “Of course, Master. Tell me about it as we get our things put away.”

            Meanwhile, Yoda was busily making preparations of his own with the Council. He’d always liked Wintertide, though his gifts to others tended more toward the whimsical rather than the practical. Dooku had often protested them, but Yoda knew that he still had the shell wall hanging displayed in his quarters that Yoda had given him the first Wintertide after his knighting. Not being greedy and attached to acquiring material things was all well and good, but Yoda was a firm believer in the benefits of making one’s house feel like one’s home, whatever place that happened to be. So Yoda had plants to remind him of his birth planet, pictures of his padawans and others he cared about, and assorted colorful blankets and pillows to add life to the bland expanse of space that he lived in.

            But this year’s Wintertide was different. The Force had seen fit to fulfill his fondest wish and bring his wayward padawan out of his self-imposed exile and home to the Temple. It had also seen fit to bring his immediate line together at last with a precious chance for reconciliation and healing among his headstrong brood. Yoda knew that it would take more than a few days to fully heal the hurts that they’d caused each other.

            But he also worried over something even more concerning. Looking far into the Unifying Force, he’d gotten the distinct impression that the events of the next few days…indeed of the next few months…were going to set not only the Jedi but the entire galaxy on a path that it couldn’t step back from. That path had two possible destinations. One was full of Light. The other…he didn’t care to contemplate the other very deeply because it kept bringing him back to a word that he had thought long buried…Sith. That path led to pure Darkness.

            Yoda had already decided that Dooku would be going to Serenno with Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and himself in tow…so long as events happened as he wished. Though he was Grandmaster of the Council, he’d been preparing to fight for the extended leave he intended to claim for himself and his line. But the Force had seen fit to smooth matters. Mace Windu had arrived at his door a week ago, distraught over the shatterpoints he saw converging around Yoda’s lineage. When Yoda had suggested the leave on Serenno, Mace hadn’t hesitated to support him.

            Now all that remained was to bring everyone together at last and to hope that the Force would bless them one more time.

            Dooku caught up with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan as they were making their way down the hall to Yoda’s quarters. The elder master was pleased that his padawan and grandpadawan were much less tense then they had been, and both were actually smiling. Dooku kept to himself the stray thought that Obi-Wan had terribly cute dimples. For one, Dooku would certainly never stoop so low as to use the word cute. For another, it would hardly do to embarrass the teen, even if Dooku could point out that underneath his beard, Qui-Gon also had terribly cute dimples. Sometimes, Dooku wondered if that had been the whole point of Qui-Gon growing the beard in the first place though, considering his own beard, he had no room to talk.

            Yoda had procured more chocolate mint cookies, leading Dooku to lightly complain.

            “Master, are you attempting to fatten us up? That’s what’s going to happen if you keep feeding us sweets like this.” His smile took all the sting out of his words.

            Yoda harrumphed. “Fattened up, you all need to be! Too thin, you are!”

            The three younger Jedi exchanged awkward glances. Yoda was absolutely right. They were all too thin. And they could hardly blame it all on their missions. Some people reached for food to deal with their emotions. In the case of Yoda’s line, they tended to completely lose their appetites.

            “For eating sweets, Wintertide is. Eat without worrying, you will,” Yoda said in a tone that allowed for no opposition.

            Dooku shook his head in fond exasperation. “Master, you are dreadfully overprotective.” He smiled. “Something which I appreciate.” He paused, glancing at Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan who smiled back. “We all do.”

            After dinner, Obi-Wan drifted over to the windows to stare out at nightfall on Coruscant. He felt his master come up behind him and rest an arm gently on his. Obi-Wan sighed and leaned back against him, a slight weight against his master’s broad chest.

            “Did I ever tell you of the old Jedi legend about Wintertide Eve? Jedi say that any wish you make of the Force on Wintertide Eve will be granted,” Qui-Gon said.

            Dooku came to stand beside Qui-Gon. “I never told you that legend. I told you such superstitions were silly.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Padawan. Who told you?”

            Qui-Gon smiled, clasping his master’s hand. “It’s alright, Master. But be reasonable. Who do you think told me?” He glanced pointedly down at Yoda who grinned.

            “And he also told me,” Dooku said. He looked at them all and then back out at the night sky. “Perhaps tonight, we should all make a wish.” Hesitantly, he laid a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. The boy smiled, showing his dimples again as he shifted so that he was leaning back against both his master and Dooku.

            Gimer stick in hand, Yoda made his slow way forward until he stood in front of them. It was Obi-Wan who reached out, drawing the eldest master back against him.

            Yoda smiled contentedly. “All make a wish, we will. See tomorrow, we will, if any of them come true.”


	7. Gifts of the Heart

** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

 ** AN ** **: This story is winding down. The next chapter will be the final one. Warning, this chapter is overrun with feels, feels, and more feels…at least, I hope it is. That’s what I tried for.**

            Wintertide was one of the only days of the Coruscant year that work, classes, and meetings were forbidden, and the Jedi made the most of the holiday. It was also one of the only days when even the Councilors were at leave to sleep in, and they shamelessly made the most of it. After all, there would be parties and merriment, both planned and impromptu, going on from lunchtime till long into the night. It was safe to say that they had better sleep now because they wouldn’t be sleeping later.

            The kitchens accommodated the late risers, and by the time Yoda’s line made its way to the cafeteria around midmorning, the large room was bustling with excitement and cheerful echoes of the traditional Wintertide greeting.

            “Happy Wintertide, Masters!” Qui-Gon called to Dooku and Yoda as he and Obi-Wan found empty seats across from them at the crowded tables.

            “Happy Wintertide to you as well, my padawans,” Dooku answered, not bothering to hide his smile at Qui-Gon’s exuberance. He’d been wrong to try and discipline it out of the boy, and he found it charming that Qui-Gon could still be as excited as any youngling, even as an adult. Beside him, Obi-Wan smiled shyly, and Dooku smiled back. Obi-Wan was healing, but it would take all of them to bring his self-esteem and confidence to the level that it should be. He resolved in that moment that he would oversee the process himself, seeing as how he was half-responsible for the boy’s lack of it.

            “Our plan for the day, what is it?” Yoda inquired, as he devoured a chocolate muffin that Dooku had snagged for him off a serving plate. Dooku wouldn’t have known what was “too thin” for his master’s species, but he reasoned that, so long as Yoda was going to stuff them, he ought to be stuffed in return. And Yoda was famous at the Temple for his sweet tooth.

            Dooku was pleased when Obi-Wan spoke up. “Master, Bant, Garen, and Reeft are having a little party in Bant’s quarters around lunchtime to eat together and exchange gifts. Master Tahl gave her permission. I had hoped…I had hoped that you might let me go?”

            The look on Qui-Gon’s face was heartbroken as he reached out and, without hesitation, kissed Obi-Wan’s forehead.

            “Stars, that I let this go so far that my I kept my own padawan away from his friends! Of course, you can go, Obi-Wan! I might drop by as well because I have a gift for Tahl…if you don’t mind me intruding,” Qui-Gon said, looking sheepish and ashamed.

            Obi-Wan reached out and tucked an unruly strand of his master’s hair back behind his ear. He smiled gently.

            “It’s okay, Master. They haven’t forgotten about me. And I think you should come by. Bant really likes you, and Master Windu is also planning to stop in. Apparently, Bant has been investigating something in her lore-keeper studies with Master Tahl, but she needs a Councilor to give her access to certain restricted texts. Master Tahl asked Master Windu if he would be willing, and he agreed to do it today. But he needs to see Bant and Master Tahl in person to do it.” Obi-Wan’s pride in his friend was clear, and none of them begrudged it to him.

            Qui-Gon nodded. “That would work out well. I have a gift for Mace too.” He checked the time and then looked at his master and grandmaster. “We have about two hours till the party though. Do the two of you have anything in mind?”

            Yoda said, “Spend some time together, we could? Seen each other too little recently, we have.”

            Dooku sighed. “Agreed.” He looked at them. “Why don’t you come to my quarters this time? As it happens, I have something for all of you.”

            Qui-Gon smiled. “That sounds like a great idea.” He glanced at Obi-Wan. “Padawan, would you like to do the honors?” He smirked at Yoda. “Grandmaster, if you are willing?”

            Yoda laughed. “Advantage to being short, this is. Carried everywhere, I am.”

            Obi-Wan giggled too and reached down to carefully lift Yoda into his arms. When he had a secure hold on the small Jedi, they made their way to Dooku’s quarters. Dooku wasted no time with pleasantries **,** suddenly feeling a rush of anxiety that he had not felt in many years. Without preamble, he handed each of them a dark brown hooded cloak, identical to the one that he wore.

            “I had them made for you on Serenno. I know it’s not the most interesting Wintertide gift, but they’re warm, sturdy, and appropriate to your size,” Dooku said, relaxing a little when Qui-Gon laughed.

            “Master, considering that my current cloak is half a dozen inches too short for me, this cloak is very much appreciated. The Temple tailors always say they can never get the droids programmed to make me a cloak that is long enough. Thank you!” Qui-Gon’s grin was genuine.

            “Pleased with your gift, I am,” Yoda said, pulling up the oversized hood on his own small cloak that had been specially made to accommodate his large, pointed ears. “Temple tailors, drive them crazy, I do. Always too big, my cloak is, but always too small, the hood is, for my ears.”

            Dooku looked at Obi-Wan. “Child, I had yours made with extra material worked into the hem. That way, the tailors will be able to simply let it out when you have a growth spurt.”

            Obi-Wan offered him that sweet, shy smile. “Thank you so much, Master.” He paused and asked wistfully, “Do you really think I’ll have a growth spurt soon? I’m so short.”

            Dooku chuckled. “I’m sure you will, Child. I never would have imagined that your master would grow so tall, but he did.” Dooku caught and held Qui-Gon’s gaze, his brown eyes shining with a tenderness that startled and delighted Qui-Gon. “It was so strange. I turned to you on the day of your knighting and wondered when by all the stars you had outgrown me!” Dooku felt his breath hitch and hastily cleared his throat. “I was remembering a boy, and yet, when I wasn’t looking, you had become a man.”

            Qui-Gon went very still. He reached out as if to offer his master his hand. But then he grabbed his master abruptly, pulling him into an awkward embrace. Shocked by his impulsive action, Qui-Gon started to pull away, but his master’s strong arms wrapping around him prevented him. They stood there clinging to each other and, for a moment, shutting out the rest of the world.

            “Padawan,” Dooku said softly. No more words came, but that was alright. One look into Dooku’s eyes told Qui-Gon everything the elder Jedi could not say aloud.

            “Master,” the younger Jedi said, just as softly. And then he bent his head and laid it on Dooku’s shoulder. Qui-Gon felt the long-forgotten but still-familiar touch…his master’s fingers in his hair. Though Dooku had been a cold master, he had found frequent reason to fix his padawan’s braid, and it was a touch that Qui-Gon had secretly cherished. They stayed like that for another moment as Qui-Gon felt the tension in his master’s shoulder’s easing even as the knot in his own heart finally untangled and relaxed.

            They finally separated, both trying to regain their composure although neither missed the deep satisfaction in Yoda’s eyes or the wistfulness in Obi-Wan’s. But before they could do anything else, Obi-Wan pressed something into Qui-Gon’s hand.

            “They’re for you, Master,” he said and then stared down bashfully at his hands.

            Qui-Gon realized that he was holding a handful of hair ties of varying lengths. Some of them were clearly suited for pulling back the top portions of his hair as he often did. The others were wider and obviously meant for pulling his hair completely back into a tail.

            “Hair ties! I have been needing these. How did you know, Padawan?” Qui-Gon asked.

            Obi-Wan beamed, happy that his master liked his gift. “You’ve been muttering about your hair so much lately, that your hair ties were too dull or that you needed stronger ones for when you needed all your hair out of your face.”

            His master smiled. “You are very observant.” He looked more closely at the ties. “Blue and green, excellent choices and a welcome change from boring leather brown.”

            Obi-Wan blushed. “Master Dooku helped me pick them out.”

            Qui-Gon smiled wryly at his master. “Blue for my eyes and green for the Living Force. Getting sentimental in your old age, Master?”

            Dooku scoffed, though he wasn’t quite convincing. “It’s important to present yourself in your best light. I was merely assisting Obi-Wan in making sure that his choices for you did that.”   Qui-Gon’s knowing look made it clear that he saw right though his master’s explanation. Dooku smirked. He knew he’d been caught, and he didn’t mind it.

            “Speaking of presenting yourself in your best light, Obi-Wan, I think I’m long overdue with my gift for you,” Qui-Gon said as he reached into the pocket of his robe and withdrew a small bag. He dumped the contents into his hand and held it out to Obi-Wan.

            “I should have done this months ago, but I didn’t. I’m sorry. Padawan, will you allow me to redo your braid and to add these beads to it?” Qui-Gon asked.

            Obi-Wan grinned wide enough to split his face. “Yes, Master, please!”

            They both sat down on the couch as Dooku pulled up a chair and Yoda perched on the arm of the chair. With great care, Qui-Gon unbraided Obi-Wan’s hair and set aside the beads and the lock of his own chestnut hair that had been bound into the braid. Then, he took the first bead he had bought.

            “This bead is for your academic achievement in reaching the top of your class. The grey is for learning, and the orange is for knowledge gained.” He smiled. “I’m proud of you, Obi-Wan. You’ve worked so hard, and you deserve this.”

            Obi-Wan said nothing, but the way his eyes were shining was enough.

            He displayed the second bead. “You should have had this bead months ago. It is white to symbolize new beginnings…such as when you finished your probation and were received fully back into the Order.”

            Obi-Wan swallowed hard, and his master silently held his hand, neither of them able to speak.

            Then, Qui-Gon offered the last bead. Obi-Wan gasped. “Master?”

            Qui-Gon tightened his grip on his padawan’s hand. “It’s alright, Obi-Wan. It’s alright to feel, and it’s alright to mourn. From what little I know of her, Cerasi was quite an impressive young woman. I know it’s not much consolation, but her sacrifice brought peace to her world.” He held out the bead. “I found this bead yesterday, and I thought immediately of her…pale green for her eyes and copper for her hair as you told me. It’s alright to cherish the memories that you have of her. It’s alright to remember her.” He held out his arms. “Come here.”

            Obi-Wan fought his feelings for a moment, trying to resist the comfort that his master was offering to him. But in the end, he burst into tears and flung himself into Qui-Gon’s arms. His master wrapped him in a hug not unlike the one that he’d just shared with Dooku. Obi-Wan clung to him as Qui-Gon rocked him like a youngling, smoothing the loose strands of his braid even as he let his padawan cry out his grief in his arms.

            Finally, the boy stirred. But when he would have apologized, Qui-Gon shook his head.

            “It’s alright, Padawan. It’s alright.” He smiled. “Do you feel better now?”

            Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Much better, Master.” He smiled wanly. “Thank you.”

            Qui-Gon grinned. “Now, let’s see about getting your braid in order.” Slowly, delicately for a man with such large fingers, Qui-Gon rebraided Obi-Wan’s hair, replacing beads and weaving back in the lock of his hair that he’d interwoven the first time. The three beads, the green and copper one, the white one, and the grey and orange one were slipped in last before he securely fastened the end.

            Tugging gently, Qui-Gon said, “Student, teacher, the Force: these are one.”

            “Only when they are in harmony with each other can they be strong,” Obi-Wan said, offering the traditional response, but then he did something far less traditional and kissed his master’s cheek. Qui-Gon drew the boy to his chest.

            Dooku smiled, affected so much by the waves of happy Force eddies surrounding his padawan and grandpadawan that he reached for his own master, lifting the small Jedi into his arms. Yoda made a contented sound, even more so when Dooku kissed the top of his head.

            “Stuffed wookie, I am not!” Yoda grumbled. But his grin made it clear that he was enjoying his padawan’s affection.

            Eventually, they all disentangled themselves enough to realize that it was getting close to time for Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon to leave for the party. Dooku knew that if he was ever going to ask them about Serenno, it would have to be now.

            “Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, I have something very important that I want to ask you.” Immediately, he had the younger Jedi’s attention, but he noticed that Yoda was watching smugly. Typical, beloved little troll.

            “As you know, I retain my hereditary title of Count of Serenno. Various authorities have recently made it known to me that it is time for me to name heirs. There is no requirement that they be my blood relations. Thus, I was hoping that you would be willing to serve in that capacity…as my sons.” That last word came more easily to Dooku than he had expected.

            Qui-Gon smiled. He looked down at Obi-Wan, who nodded, smiling too.

            “Master, Obi-Wan and I would like nothing better. We accept your proposal.” He extended a hand which his master took. “Does this mean that you will be my father now and Obi-Wan’s grandfather?”

            Dooku swallowed hard. To hear those words from their lips used for him…he felt the Force nearly singing with the rightness of it and knew that this was the best choice he could have made.

            “If you are comfortable with that, you may. I would…like it very much,” Dooku said, feeling an unaccustomed blush heat his face.

            Back on the arm of his chair, Yoda was laughing. “Knew they would say yes, I did! A family, you have, Padawan mine!”

            Dooku countered, “But that family is not complete yet, Master, not without you in it.” He took a breath, meeting Yoda’s surprised eyes. “Master, would you be willing for me to name you as my father?”

            When he was grinning that widely, Yoda looked almost frightening to all but those who knew him best. Dooku couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Yoda grin quite like that.

            But the words Yoda finally spoke were simple. “Honored to be your father, I would be, son mine.”

            By that time, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had to leave for the party. However, Qui-Gon said something very odd to Dooku before they left.

            “Obi-Wan and I have a gift for you, at least we hope we do. Watch for it later this afternoon.”

            With grins tossed over their shoulders and their new cloaks keeping them warm, they left as Dooku stared blankly after them.

            “What do they mean, Master?” Dooku asked.

            Yoda smirked. “Suspect, I do. Like it, you will. But tell you, I will not.”

            Dooku shrugged. If ever there was a time that he would not mind surprises, it was now.


	8. The Path of Light

** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

** AN ** **: This is the last chapter of this story. I hope that anyone reading it enjoyed it.**

            An hour or two later, after sharing lunch with Yoda and accompanying him at several parties, during which time Dooku made wary reacquaintance with a number of people he had all but forgotten, Yoda excused himself. Feeling at loose ends, Dooku turned and saw Qui-Gon coming down the hall.

            “Have you been enjoying yourself at your party, Padawan?” he asked. He was quite pleased to see Qui-Gon wearing the cloak he had given him. It was rather drafty in the Temple during the winter, and Dooku was satisfied to see that his padawan was finally wearing a cloak that would keep his towering form warm.

            “Of course, Master. But I must admit that even I am in need of a little peace and quiet in all the chaos.” He smiled. “I was heading to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. I doubt there’s anyone there right now. Would you like to come?”

            Dooku smiled. “Certainly, Padawan. While it has been pleasant seeing so many people who I haven’t seen for a very long time, I could also use a break.”

            The halls in this area of the Temple were empty, and, at first glance, the Room of a Thousand Fountains appeared empty as well. But then they turned a corner to a small meditation garden and found that it was not empty at all. Standing by a tree, deep in conversation, was Obi-Wan. Dooku started to smile at his grandpadawan until he saw who the boy was talking with…Master Sifo-Dyas.

            Dooku made a strangled sound. Slowly, Sifo turned. Their eyes met. Neither man noticed when Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan quietly left them alone.

            For long moments, the two Jedi masters simply stared at each other. Dooku noted the awkward twist of Sifo’s left foot, a consequence of a permanent ankle injury on the first mission that he had taken after Dooku had left. Dooku could feel Sifo’s eyes on him as well, lingering on his thin, almost gaunt condition. Sifo had always been concerned that Dooku didn’t eat enough.

            Sifo spoke. “I did not know that you had returned to the Temple.”

            Dooku softly said, “I returned only three days ago.”

            There was more silence. Glancing sidelong at him, Sifo sat down on a bench. Dooku sat down beside him.

            Finally, Sifo said, “Why did you leave, Yan? Were you that furious with me? I know that we came to sabers over my…far too costly mistake.” He took a steadying breath, remembering Jocasta Nu. “But we’ve gotten angry at each other before. We’ve even come to sabers before. Could you not forgive me?”

            Dooku sighed. “Forgiving you wasn’t the problem. I knew that her death wasn’t your fault. It was a tragic accident that comes with field missions.” He rubbed his forehead. “It was my anger that made me leave. Sifo, I have never been so furious as I was during that fight! I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared of myself. I was furious enough to hurt you.” Shame colored his face. “I came perilously close to it. Afterward, I decided that I couldn’t risk putting you or anyone else at risk from my anger. So I ran to the Outer Rim.”

            Sifo gasped. “You were protecting me? You exiled yourself to protect me?”

            “Yes.” Dooku wondered where all his elegant speech had gone. “I had just lost Jocasta. I wasn’t about to lose you too, no matter what cost I had to pay to protect you.”

            Sifo asked, “Why did you come back?”

            For a moment, Dooku said nothing. Then the words came. “I was lonely…lonely enough that I was perilously close to giving into Darkness. I was afraid to come back, but I was more afraid to stay and Fall.”

            “I’ve never heard of anyone Falling from loneliness,” Sifo said gently.

            Dooku’s eyes were haunted. “You’d be surprised, Sifo, just how friendly the Darkness can feel when there is no Light to give you another way.”

            “And have you found the Light again?” Sifo asked.

            Dooku turned, meeting Sifo’s eyes. “In those two Jedi who left here only moments ago, in the small creature who I call Master…in you…if you’re willing…yes, I think I have. But I want to keep it this time.” He paused, and he was suddenly uncertain in a way that the old Dooku had never been. But perhaps it was for the better. “Will you forgive me for running, Sifo?”

            Sifo smiled. “Will you forgive me for not running after you? You do realize that Jocasta would have had both our heads for that.”

            Dooku laughed. “She would have, wouldn’t she? She always said we were too stubborn for our own good.”

            “If it’s my forgiveness you need than I forgive you, Yan.” He held out his hand. “It’s been a long time since I felt like participating in the Wintertide parties, but I suppose we could go together. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

            Dooku took his hand in his. “Then let’s make sure we don’t miss all the fun.”

            Sifo laughed. “You know, that’s a word I thought I’d never hear you say.”

            Dooku grinned. “It’s something I’m finally learning. Let’s go.”

            Sifo tugged on his hand and stopped him. “Wait a minute, Yan. Ever since my ankle injury, I haven’t been able to move as well as you remember.”

            Dooku clasped Sifo’s hand more securely. “That’s alright, Sifo. We’ll manage…just lean on me. I won’t let you fall.”

            Sifo smiled. “And I won’t let you Fall either, Yan. Never again.”

            They made their slow way through the halls, following a rising commotion that seemed to be coming from the main exit doors to the Temple. As they got closer, they realized that the doors were standing open. Then they realized why.

            “Grandmaster, look! My wish came true! The Force sent us snow!” Obi-Wan shouted. He wasn’t the only person who couldn’t resist the piles of fluffy white snow that were only getting taller as snowflakes continued to fall from thick clouds. Padawans, initiates, and crechelings were all over the snow-covered grounds. Abruptly, Dooku and Sifo realized that knights and masters had joined the excited younger Jedi…even Council members. There were Depa and Mace and Oppo and Yaddle and so many others, all having thrown aside their dignity to, as Qui-Gon would say, live in the moment. It rarely snowed on Coruscant, and everyone had decided to make the most of it.

            A hand tugging on his cloak caught his attention. He looked around and down.

            “My wish also, come true it has. My line, reconciled. My family, together and whole.” Yoda caught Sifo’s startled glance. “All my family,” Yoda said, clearly including him. Sifo’s face relaxed into a smile.

            “And you, Padawan mine? Your wish, come true it has?” Yoda asked.

            Dooku looked at Sifo beside him. He looked down at Yoda, and then he looked out at Obi-Wan who was engaged in a snowball fight with Qui-Gon. And Dooku knew that when he’d wished for an end to his Darkness, he couldn’t have wished for anything better than this.

            “Yes, Master, I believe it has.” Dooku wasn’t the only one startled when a barrage of snowballs hit them.

            Qui-Gon stood there, grinning like the boy Dooku remembered from so long ago.

            “Come on, Masters! Obi-Wan has started a masters versus padawans snowball fight, and we need more people on our side if we’re going to win!” Qui-Gon shouted.

            Dooku looked at Sifo. Sifo looked at Dooku. Yoda just laughed.

            “Waiting on what, are you? Join them, we should!” Yoda bounded off the steps, skimming along the snow with the help of the Force.

            Finally, Sifo tugged gently on Dooku’s hand. “Together?”

            Dooku nodded. “Together.”

            They stepped into the snow and the rest of their new lives. And Yoda, watching them, felt the Force rejoice. The path of Light had been chosen, and all was finally right with the world.


End file.
